Pleasant View of Life
by shortiesdowrite42
Summary: The story revolves around several of Pleasantview's key families as they prepare for the marriage of Cassandra Goth to Don Lothario, all while dealing with conflicts of their own. But will things go as planned?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

At the Goth residence located at 600 Westover Lane in the city of Pleasantview, Cassandra Goth stood in front of her mirror, getting ready for her date.

_When was the last time I went on a date? _She wondered as she struggled to fit her hair into a ponytail. _Not in at least 2 years. _Cassandra picked a piece of lint off her wool hat she had knitted herself, a nice forest color that brought out the hint of green in her hazel eyes. She recalled what her father had often told her:

"As the heir to the Goth family fortune, it is important to find someone and settle down!"

Cassandra glowered at the thought of marriage. Her eyebrows furrowed, creating the wrinkles that were often present these days. _Not if Father weds before I do, _she thought. Dina Caliente, a newcomer from SimCity, had been setting her eyes on Mortimer Goth, Cassandra's rich and esteemed father. _You keep away from him. _Cassandra thought. Dina was the "angel of Pleasantview"; all the men said so at the lab where Cassandra worked. Ugh. It was women like Dina that made Cassandra's sex life a living hell. All through college it had been like that: poor naive Cassandra thought she had a chance with the man of her dreams, yet she would see him two hours after their first date with a Dina-like woman on his arm. _Fools_, she thought. Maybe it had something to do with her hair. She would go to the hairstylist in SimCity to see if she could get a new cut.

_Oh well. _

Cassandra was at least lucky that Don Lothario had turned a blind eye to Dina. She looked out the window through the falling snow for a sign of his red sports car turning down the drive. Don Lothario. The "Don Juan" was what many of Cassandra's coworkers had called him.

"His name fits him, doesn't it?" called out one of Cassandra's friends after Don had first called to ask Cassandra on a date. Cassandra had only laughed and accepted Don's invitation.

_He's just misunderstood. _Cassandra thought as she looked around for her black parka. It was January, and one of the coldest days on record. Pleasantview Private, where Alexander attended school, had called off classes for the day because of the ice and snow, something that they rarely did.

Realizing that her parka was downstairs on the coat rack, Cassandra ran out of her bedroom and almost smacked into her younger brother, who was also dressed up for the weather.

"Where are you going sport?" Cassandra teased, tickling Alex through his heavy winter coat.

"Lucy Burb invited me to a snow friend making party!" The seven year old gleefully said through gasps of laughter. "Her parents can't pick me up because of the weather, so I'm walking over there!"

"Walking? In this weather?" Cassandra looked fearfully outside. The snow looked like it was picking up the pace, as if it knew a seven year old with a bad sense of direction was about to step outside. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"I'll be fine, big sis!" Alex giggled. "Don't be such a worrywart! It's only a few blocks away!"

Cassandra sighed as she watched her baby brother run down the stairs of the grand mansion. Ever since Cassandra's mother, Bella Goth, had mysteriously disappeared, she constantly had to keep an eye out for her younger brother. She was the woman of the house, after all. She followed Alexander at a slower pace. _Maybe that's why Don is late. _She pondered. _Maybe he can't get his car out of the driveway because of the snow. I should call…_

But as she reached for her cell phone, it suddenly buzzed in the pocket of her jeans. Pulling it out, she recognized the number on the caller I.D. as Don.

"Hello?"

"Hey, babe."

The sound of Don's silky voice instantly soothed Cassandra's nerves. "Hey you." She said, trying to sound sexy yet concerned. "Where are you?"

"I'm caught in some sort of a jam right now." Don said. "I might be a little late. Is that okay, honey?"

"It's perfectly alright!" Cassandra said, laughing. "I can't find my parka anyways!"

"Okay, hun. I'll ring you if I have anymore trouble. Love ya."

"Love you too. Bye"

"I'm sure he can't get his 'car' out of the 'driveway'," came a voice from the foyer. Cassandra looked to her left and saw her father appear at the door. "You know how much I don't trust that man, Cassie."

"Oh Daddy, it'll be fine." Cassandra reassured her father. "He's just in a bit of a rut."

"Why yes, I'm sure the Caliente sisters are a big enough 'rut' for dear old Don Juan." Mortimer said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Your wedding is soon. He should be over here, helping with plans and decorations!"

"Oh Father," Cassandra laughed. "Your attitude is worse than your innuendos! He'll show up!"

_Shit_. Don thought as he sat up in bed. It was already 11:00, but he'd woken up around 10:30. He pulled himself out of his comfy, warm double bed. This bed held so many memories.

Throughout his life, Don had been called many things: a lover, a Don Juan, a player. None of those names mattered to him. He was who he was. And he was Don Lothario. No one stopped him.

Don didn't really care about what other people thought of him anyways. All he really needed was a sexy woman, a huge bag of cash, and a nice house. Here in Pleasantview, the chances of at least getting two of those three needs were high. Don often found himself in a dilemma, like the one he was in now.

As Don pulled on his clothes, he thought about the night before. His fiancée Cassandra had invited him to a party hosted by the wealthy Mortimer Goth (the need of cash and a large house was already fulfilled), but he had politely declined, complaining about a stomach problem. On the contrary, he had spent a romantic evening with Dina Caliente, a very sexy woman, instead his betrothed.

You see, Cassandra Goth was not Don Lothario's type. The day after Don had asked for Cassandra's hand in marriage, Dina Caliente and her younger sister, Nina (also hot), had moved into the neighborhood. Dina was in her early twenties, and had graduated from Sim State University. She dreamed of becoming an actress, and during one of their secret dates, Dina had told Don about how she would do anything to become a big-screen star.

That gave Don an idea.

Don knew Mortimer Goth had some connections with famous directors and producers in Strangetown, the neighboring city. So, Don told Dina that he'd get her that opportunity, but the only way to do that was to marry Cassandra. Dina agreed, and after that, Don had been having a secret love affair behind Cassandra's back.

Last night Dina had come over. Don had cooked (very badly), but Dina didn't complain. They spent the night watching a romantic movie, made love, and relaxed in the hot tub on Don's roof.

Don raked a comb through his hair. Did he love Dina? Or Cassandra? The wedding was in a week, and Cassie had been pulling her hair out trying to prepare for it. Don had no idea there was so much to put into one little evening. He'd already gotten his tux, but Cassandra hadn't even gotten her dress yet.

Looking outside, Don realized that the roads would probably be bad.

_Shit. _He thought again. It took ten minutes to get to the Goth's, but with this weather, it'd probably take twenty. He was already late, and Cassandra was probably pissed at him.

Racing downstairs, Don cleaned up whatever he could find that gave the slightest hint of the fact that he had had another woman in the house last night. The condom wrapper on the floor, the stain on the couch. All those subtle little details could endanger Don's chance at getting the Goth fortune. Cassandra would freak if she saw. Pulling out his cell phone, he frantically dialed her number.

"Snow day!" screamed Lilith Pleasant, barging into her twin sister's room. Angela Pleasant looked up in surprise from her pillow.

"Get out!" she yelled. "It's isn't even eleven yet!"

"Aw, c'mon sis," Lilith whined, tossing her red hair back. "Get up! Mom needs us downstairs anyways!"

Angela hid her head under the pillow, and waited until she heard her sister's footsteps head out of her room and stomp downstairs. She got herself out of bed, checked in her mirror to see if her hair, the same violent shade of red as her twin's, looked ok. Then she headed downstairs.

Mary-Sue Pleasant, an attractive, serious woman, was pacing the entrée, wrinkles creasing the smooth skin of her face. When seeing her two daughters, her face lit up with hope.

"Girls," she said. "I am in a bit of a dilemma. I need your help."

"Ok, no problem, Ma." Angela said. _Always the goody-two-shoes_. Lilith thought angrily.

"I hope only one person is needed for this job," Lilith whined. Mary-Sue glared at her.

"Lilith Naomi Pleasant! I hope I did not hear those words come out of my own daughter's mouth! I thought I raised you better!" She rubbed her forehead, feeling the wrinkles that seemed to be more prominent on her face than ever. "Honestly, why can't you be more like your sister?"

Angela smirked at Lilith, who felt increasingly jealous. "Fine," Lilith growled. "What is it you want?"

Mary-Sue sighed, and looked out the window of the colonial-style house. "Your father has disappeared somewhere, without leaving a note. I need help doing some household chores."

"Are you serious?" Lilith complained right when Angela said "Ok."

Mary-Sue pulled a list out of the pocket of her suit. "Your father was supposed to do these chores while I was at work. You girls have to divide up the chores and do them. They shouldn't take too long."

Angela took the list and gave a quick glance. Lilith joined her, but when the twins looked up to ask Mary-Sue when she would be back, they discovered that their mother had already left.

"Ok," Angela said, taking initiative. "How many chores are on here?"

"I don't know," Lilith groaned. "But I'm not going to be doing them."

"Oh, come on Lilith," Angela waved the list in her sister's face. "Dad's not home and you know mom's too busy with her career to do this stuff herself." She paused for a moment. "Where is Dad anyways? He didn't say he had an appointment today."

"He has an appointment with a street hooker." Lilith snatched the list from Angela's hands. "I call doing the dishes!"

"A street hooker?" Angela crossed her arms. "Lilith, you know better."

"Kaylynn isn't anything more than a street hooker." Lilith grumbled.

"Lilith, I don't approve of Dad's relationship with Kaylynn either," Angela said. "But I don't make a big deal about it. But she's our maid. You'd better appreciate her because she cleans up after your messes. Now I don't want to hear anything else about it. Let's get dressed and showered and start on these chores."

Kaylynn, the Pleasant's maid, was one of the main things that were on both Lilith and Angela's minds as they went into their separate bathrooms. The fact that Mary-Sue and Daniel Pleasant's marriage had all but dissipated was something the twins could not ignore. Mary-Sue knew it too, but she had no idea what Daniel had been doing the past year. Angela and Lilith knew very well how Kaylynn and Daniel's relationship had evolved during the last few months, and they weren't happy about it.

After getting freshened up, the twins wrapped themselves up in their heavy winter clothes and headed outside to scrape the heavy snow off the tarp covering their outdoor pool.

"Lilith, do you have tutoring today?" Angela asked as she went to get the net they used to clean stray leaves and grass out of the water. "I vaguely remember Mom telling you that you did have it sometime today. Did you remember, or forget this time?"

"Oh, I remembered," Lilith sighed, staring dreamily into space. Angela recognized that look.

"It's a guy isn't it?" she teased. "You were never this excited about tutoring. Come on, who's the bastard?"

"No one!" Lilith said defensively. "There's no guy!"

"Come on." Angela prodded. "Tell me. Who is it? Is it Mark Somerson in our French class?"

"Ew, have you seen his clothes?" Lilith said. The expression on her face was so funny that Angela burst out laughing.

"I know, it looks like he came out of a gang fight!" Angela giggled some more, but then proceeded in bugging her sister.

"Do you really want to know?" Lilith said, trying to concentrate on shoveling some of the heavy snow off the tarp.

"YES!" Angela almost screamed.

"Dirk Dreamer." Lilith mumbled, so quiet Angela had to strain herself to hear.

"Really?" Angela squealed. "You guys would be cute together! But, he doesn't seem to be your type."

"Don't tell me what my type is." Lilith snapped, wrapping the cord to the underwater vacuum around its handle. "Help me so the tarp doesn't rip."

The twins managed to scrape off the remaining snow from the tarp, right as the snow was beginning to fall heavily, covering every inch of the ground outside. Pretty soon, it was impossible to work.

"Why did Mom ask us to wipe off the tarp?" Angela mumbled after heaving the last bit of snow off the pool covering. "It's only going to be covered up in snow again."

"I'm sure she meant for us to scrape it off after the storm, you dolt. We better head inside, and work on the indoor chores." Lilith suggested. Angela readily agreed and the two headed indoors.

Cassandra rummaged through the kitchen, hurriedly looking for the wedding plans her father usually stashed in the "rubbish" drawer. The large manila envelope was nowhere to be seen. She checked her watch; eleven-thirty. On a normal day, trudging to Don's small condo from her estate usually took about fifteen minutes. But today, Cassandra estimated the added time would be much longer because of the snow. It was beginning to fall heavily.

"Father!" she called up the stairs. She could hear Mortimer moving about in his bedroom.

"Father!" she yelled again, and Mortimer's head poked over the banister. "Have you seen the wedding plans?"

"Aren't they in the rubbish drawer?"

"No, I can't find them," Cassandra raked her thoughts for any idea as to where the extremely important plans could be. She needed to go over them with Don during their date, to make sure everything was perfect for the winter wonderland wedding.

"Check the hall closet, I may have put them there. You know me," Mortimer scoffed. "I'm getting older by the day, and my memory isn't what it used to be."

"Thanks, Daddy!" Cassandra called, rushing over to the hall closet. Like he said, the manila envelope containing the plans was folded over in the inside pocket of Mortimer's winter coat. Cassandra extracted the folder, relieved. She checked her watch again. Only five minutes had passed. Her cell phone buzzed again. The caller ID gave Don's name.

"Hey,"

"Hey, sweetie," Don's melodic voice hummed through the earpiece like a wave of calm that soothed Cassandra automatically. "I'm on my way. It might take a little longer than usual, because of the snow."

"It's alright," Cassandra said apologetically, although Don hadn't apologized for anything. "Don, we should probably just discuss our wedding plans here, instead of at the café. I don't want to drive on these roads." She glanced outside; the snow was, if it was possible, falling still more heavily.

"I was thinking the exact same thing," Don's voice wrapped around Cassandra's ear like a warm blanket. "Saves money, and gas too."

"I'll see you soon, then?"

"Of course, love you honey." There was a click as Don hung up. Cassandra flipped her phone shut and stowed it back in her pocket. She walked over to the sitting room, and flopped down on the divan sofa. She was exhausted, and it wasn't even noon yet! She moved to a more comfortable position, and let her eyes droop.

Mortimer answered the door when it rang. Cassandra was fast asleep in the sitting room, snoring contentedly in the comfortable divan that Mortimer had received as a wedding present. Don was at the door—_Finally,_ Mortimer thought snidely—covered in snow, his red sports car parked on the curb.

"Mr. Lothario, what a pleasure to see you." Mortimer lied through his teeth, stepping aside to let Don in. The man flashed Mortimer a smile, a big mouth filled with impeccably white teeth.

"And a pleasure to be invited into your home, as always," Don said, taking off his leather jacket. He held it up for Mortimer to take.

_I'm not your maid,_ Mortimer thought angrily, but he took the coat anyways. By now Don should've known where to stow his coat after dating Cassie for at least two years, but Mortimer would let this mistake slide. Don was going to be his new son-in-law soon, after all.

"I can't wait to see this place all decked out for the wedding tomorrow!" Don was saying, glancing about the foyer in glee. _Yes, and you can't wait to see it all become yours, as well_, Mortimer considered saying, but he held his tongue. He made a mental note to contact his lawyer as soon as Don was out of the house to make sure his youngest, Alex, received the estate and part of the fortune in his will. There couldn't be any loopholes. Mortimer was aware his days were numbered, and he had to tie up any loose ends before the Grim Reaper paid his awful visit.

"So where's Cassandra?" Don turned to face Mortimer, clapping his hands together.

"In the parlor," Mortimer pointed, although he was sure Don knew where the room was located. "She's taking a nap now, I'm afraid. Can I get you something?"

"I'm fine," Don replied, already heading toward the parlor. "I've known you forever, Morty," (Mortimer hated that pet name Don always used—Morty, how revolting!) "So if I do need anything, I'll just help myself. I don't want to inconvenience you."

"Much appreciated," Mortimer growled. Don grinned another one of those impossibly white grins, then headed off to the sitting room, undoubtedly to wake Cassandra from her peaceful slumber. Mortimer fumed for a moment in the foyer, then realized he was still holding Don's dripping coat. He glared at the leather material hanging limply in his wrinkled hand, and then moved toward the hall closet to stash it in the most unforgiving corner. Maybe it would fall off the hanger onto the dusty floor. Mortimer smirked at the idea, but then wiped away the thoughts of malice. He wasn't a mean person; he'd always been a kind and gentle man, loved in the neighborhood for his generosity and sympathy. But Don brought out some sort of devil in Mortimer, he angered at the idea of him joining the family.

He heard Cassandra's voice float out of the parlor. Her words were muffled, but he could hear Don's voice answering her. He assumed they were seated on the divan, with the manila envelope open between them, reviewing and checking the final details on their wedding plans. Mortimer could not believe it was next week. He remembered when Bella gave birth—Bella. Mortimer faltered for a bit as he imagined his former wife, who had mysteriously disappeared. The rumor was she had been abducted by aliens, although Mortimer felt that theory was greatly blown out of proportion.

"Only abductions are heard of in Strangetown," he had scoffed at the townspeople almost ten years ago, right after Alexander was born. But, he always went onto the balcony of the Goth estate every night and scoured the heavens thorough his high-powered telescope, hoping to find something. He didn't know what he was specifically looking for, but he knew one day he would find a sign. A sign his Bella would return to him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Dirk Dreamer had awoken to the DJ on Sim Alternative FM listing off the closings in the area. He knew a storm had rolled through Pleasantview during the night, but Pleasantview High wasn't known to close their schools at any time. That's why he jumped out of bed and yelled "WHOOPEEE!" when he heard "Pleasantview Area High" announced on the radio. Then he had promptly turned off his alarm and gone back to sleep.

His father, Darren, came in exactly two hours later, at 8:30, to notify Dirk about the school cancellation. Dirk was still half asleep when his father woke him, so he mumbled something—reflecting on it, he realized whatever he had said was in bad taste—then turned towards the wall.

Now, it was nearly 11:30, as Dirk checked the digital clock lying on his nightstand. He pulled up the covers of his bed to his chin, trying to keep the mists of sleep still hovering over him. But it was to no avail, and as the sun shone through the faded blue curtains over Dirk's windows, he knew he had to get out of bed.

He sat up quickly, and was overcome with the sudden lightheadedness that takes over a person who moves from one position to another too drastically. Dirk held his head for awhile, waiting for the black spots to fade, then pushed the covers off him and rose.

As he passed opened the door connecting his room to the bathroom, Dirk heard his father rustling about in the hallway. The memories of Dirk snapping at his father poured back to him, and he instantly regretted his tone or his choice of words, whatever they were. Dirk was the only thing Darren had left. Dirk's mother, Doreen, had died when Dirk was just ten, six years ago. Dirk still missed her sometimes, but he knew Darren couldn't get over one of the "great loves of his life", as he liked to call his wife. Dirk was the closest thing he had to her. He resolved to apologize to his father for being snappy earlier, as he stepped into the shower.

One warm, fifteen-minute shower and a change of clothes later, Dirk emerged from his room to see his father reading the newspaper on the sofa. A box of cereal stood on the kitchen counter, presumably for Dirk to eat. There was also an empty bowl and spoon sitting next to the cereal.

"Milk's in the fridge," Darren said, without looking up from the paper. Dirk could see the headline from where he was standing: _Tensions between Candidates Rise as Elections Move Closer._ Dirk headed over to where the cereal was situated.

"Those mayoral elections going any better?" he inquired as he poured himself a bowl of Sim's Crispy Crunchies.

"Nope," Darren replied, folding up the newspaper. "You know you friend Lilith's mother is running, Mary-Sue?"

"Yeah," Dirk murmured vaguely as he retrieved the milk carton from the fridge. A small photograph of Bella Goth was on the side of the white milk carton with the words "Missing" above her head in large font, plus an aged image from the Sim Forensic Department under the description. He then remembered: he was supposed to have a tutoring session with Lilith Pleasant today after school! He would text her later and see if she could still make it.

"Dad," Dirk began as he settled down at the dinner table for his brunch. "I want to apologize for whatever—"

"No need," Darren interrupted, moving over to the kitchen and placing the newspaper on the island.

"Didn't I say something rude this morning?" Dirk questioned, surprised at this indifferent tone taken by his father.

"Nope," Darren answered, opening the fridge and peering in it. "You were definitely out when I came in. You mumbled something about llamas and rolled over."

Dirk breathed an internal sigh of relief, and shoved an extra large spoonful of Sim's Crispy Crunchies into his mouth. Some milk dribbled down his chin, and he discreetly wiped it on his sleeve.

"Since you don't have school today," Darren started, picking up a banana from the fruit bowl and beginning to unpeel it. "I need you to try on that tuxedo you have, for," he paused. "Cassandra's wedding next week. You know we've been invited."

Even though Darren tried so hard to hide it, Dirk knew from a gut feeling that his father secretly had a crush on Cassandra Goth. They both worked together in the labs at Sim State University, in the department of microbiology. She had also asked Darren to paint her wedding picture with Don Lothario. And Dirk could tell by the way his father's hands slightly tightened their grip on the banana he was holding, the fact that Cassandra was getting married to one of the most womanizing men in town struck a chord within Darren.

Dirk didn't point this out though. Darren did not like being reminded or teased about his feelings for Cassandra. In his mind, it was still too soon to be dating after his wife died, and the fact that she was buried in their backyard made the idea even more impossible to bear. Instead, Dirk made a small assenting hum as he shoveled in the last of his Sim's Crispy Crunchies.

"I want to make sure that tux fits," Darren said through a mouthful of banana. "If it doesn't, we're going to have to take it in, or even buy you a new one. Who knows how much money, or time, that can take."

Dirk nodded as he stood up from the table to clear his dish. "I have a tutoring session with Lilith Pleasant today," he said.

Darren nodded slowly. "Okay…." he said. "I don't know if she'll be able to make it in this weather."

Dirk looked out the window and noticed the snow was still falling just as heavily as it had been that morning. "She can walk," he said. "The Pleasants don't live that far."

Unfortunately for Dustin Broke, school being canceled meant more work for him. His boss called once he had gotten the message about Pleasantview Area High's closing.

"Since you ain't got school, ya got more time to work," he had said gruffly, then hung up.

Dustin knew his mother wouldn't be pleased about it. He could hear her in her bedroom, playing with his two-year old brother, Beau. He looked at the clock placed on the kitchen wall. He had to be at work in thirty minutes. He cleared his throat.

"Mom?" he called. He could hear Brandi bustling about, and a small cry from Beau, obviously distressed at being detached from his playmate. Sure enough, Brandi swung open her bedroom door, her blue eyes staring at Dustin in a questioning manner.

"What, Dustin?" she sighed. Dustin instantly regretted telling his boss he could work today. Brandi was obviously tired; Beau may have kept her up all night. He had the flu, as well as an ear infection, and Brandi had to keep him well rested.

"Um, I just wanted to let you know I have to work today," Dustin mumbled, looking down at the floor.

Brandi groaned. "Really? Arnold's making you come in?"

Dustin inwardly shuddered. He hated when his mother called his greasy boss by his first name. Arnold. Ugh. The name was almost as disgusting as the man himself.

"I'm sorry, Ma!" Dustin pleaded. "I already told him I could go!" _And someone needs to earn some sort of money in this house_, he was about to say, but he didn't dare. Ever since his father died a less than two months ago, Brandi had been trying to take care of little Beau while simultaneously looking for a steady job.

Brandi massaged her forehead, leaning on the doorframe. "Alright, but I don't want this to be an excuse for hanging out with Angela."

Dustin hung his head. He had once told his mother he was going to work, when really he had been hanging out with Angela Pleasant, his girlfriend. He had taken her to the seedier side of town, to an inclusive club that neither his mother nor Angela's approved of.

Beau gave another cry from Brandi's bedroom. She gave a long sigh, then turned her back on Dustin, leaving him standing in the living room of the small house alone.

Nina awoke feeling absolutely disgusting. She arched her back, stretching the stiff tendons that seemed to always freeze themselves during the night, then suddenly clutched her stomach, feeling suddenly nauseous. She listened for signs of life from her fraternal twin, Dina's, bedroom. None. With that in mind, she rushed for the bathroom.

She got their just in time, a spew of vomit rushing from her mouth. She swore softly, wiping her mouth. Although she felt slightly better after vomiting, Nina was starting to worry. She hadn't eaten anything that would've caused her to throw up so suddenly. She ticked off foods she'd consumed, just in case.

Salad for dinner; no, salad had never made her sick before, and none of the vegetables had looked rotten. There was chicken on it, but it was leftover from yesterday, and Dina always made sure food was cooked through thoroughly.

Dessert? A bowl of ice cream, with caramel syrup. No….

Nina paused in her ponderings to listen for any noise downstairs. Still none. _Dina must be at work_, she thought, and felt relieved her sister hadn't heard her throw up. Dina would've come rushing to her side, with a huge bag of medicine in her hand. While Nina enjoyed being cared for, her sister could often go overboard.

Nina chuckled wryly, as another wave of nausea hit her. _Euhhh_, she thought. The night had been finished off by a cup of chamomile tea and a good book. _Tea definitely did not make me sick_, Nina scoffed.

She flushed the toilet, the remnants of her earlier meals spinning down the drain. She pulled off her pants and took a seat on the bowl. As she glanced down to her underwear, she noticed something. _Wasn't I supposed to start my—_she paused. She counted on her fingers. Then she realized.

_I'm pregnant._

The nausea, it explained everything! Nina clutched at her forehead. _Goddammit,_ she cursed to herself. She couldn't afford to be pregnant now…she was only in her early twenties.

Nina quickly rushed over to the bathroom closet and frantically looked through it. There, in the corner, a crumpled box labeled _Are You? _in curly handwriting sat, looking slightly forlorn. She grabbed it furiously, banging up the box even more than it already was.

_God, I hope these things don't expire,_ Nina thought as she held the pregnancy test stick between her legs while she sat on the toilet.


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry guys for the long wait, I have definitely been busy with school and everything. Here's chapter 3! I'm trying to fix the things you lovely readers pointed out in your reviews, so bear with me. This one is a little shoddy, considering I had writer's block for basically the first half. Even so, I hope you enjoy!_

Chapter 3

Dina Caliente sighed exhaustedly as she stared at the invitation she had received weeks ago. Written in curly script, the invitation read:

Mortimer Alexander Goth

Would like to cordially invite you to the

WEDDING

Of his daughter,

CASSANDRA BELLA GOTH

To

DON PATRICK LOTHARIO

On November 6th, at the time of

4:30 9n the afternoon

At our residence:

600 Westover Lane

Pleasantview

RSVP

She placed the gilded card on the linoleum countertop, holding her head in her hands. Don…how could he be marrying such a wench? Dina looked around her small condominium, at the peeling blue paint and red wallpaper in the living room. She had to admit, she thought to herself laughing, she didn't have as nice of a place as Cassandra, heiress to the Goth fortune. _But_, she thought, _I am definitely more attractive!_

Dina imagined Cassandra, with her skinny, lanky body and wiry hair, always put up into braids or a ponytail, and her clothes, usually dark in color. She looked down at herself, currently leaning against the countertop, elbows resting on the sticky surface. Thick, blonde hair that did whatever she wanted it to (like her men, she thought with a chuckle), hourglass figure with ample breasts, alluring green eyes. _What do men like Don see in women like Cassandra? _She thought, irritated, rubbing her eyes in frustration.

The answer came to her like an epiphany. _Money_. Of course, she had forgotten the plan. Don would marry Cassandra, and Dina would work on the wealthy father, Mortimer. They would both then use their family influence to give Dina what she wanted: a break out role in one of SimCity's hottest films.

A soft retching sound came from right above Dina's head, from what sounded like her twin sister, Nina's, bathroom. Dina paused for a moment, wondering what could be wrong, but then smirked as she realized Nina must've eaten something that hadn't agreed with her.

_Fat cow,_ she thought as she picked up the fancy invitation, placing it back in its envelope and tacking it onto their bulletin board hanging up in the kitchen. Dina, of course, didn't need to remember the wedding. Everyone in Pleasantview had been talking about the stupid thing.

_No one will shut up about it,_ she fumed. It was "the wedding of the century," according to all the gossip she heard.

_Honestly_, she raged in her head. _It wasn't any different from when I married Michael. _

She smiled a little contentedly at that most recent marriage. Michael Bachelor had been an older man, much like her love Mortimer. Dina smirked a little, realizing the irony of the situation she was in: Michael's sister, Bella, had been married to Mortimer. Her ex-sister-in-law. Dina stifled a chuckle, but then frowned. Bella.

_Of course, everyone thinks I had something to do with it, _she thought, aggravated. She had had nothing to do with the disappearance nearly ten years ago. Neither she nor her sister had even moved to Pleasantview. Dina looked back, remembering. How old had she been when the disappearance hit the press? _Thirteen_, she thought. She hadn't even heard of Michael Bachelor and his large fortune, or Mortimer Goth, and his equally enormous wealth.

Dina had met Michael at a co-worker's party, when she was eighteen years old, working as an intern for a small film studio. She wanted to pursue acting as a career, and had just been shoved out of the cozy realm of high school into college and the real world. She and Michael had hit it off, and, almost one year later, they were married.

Marriage was not something nineteen year old Dina had been prepared for, she knew, looking back on it. Michael wanted children, an heir to make his fortune secure when he passed. He had been married before—to a vile woman, or so he said—but his wife had not been able to produce any sort of child. Miscarriages were common. Therefore, young, fertile Dina was his perfect opportunity. _And mine as well,_ Dina thought, thinking of Michael's vast connections with the film industry, as well as the large sum of money he had in his bank account.

To Michael's happiness, Dina got pregnant within the first few months of her marriage. Michael was ecstatic, and hoped for a little boy, to be named Simis, after his father. The child was revealed to be a girl in the ultrasound, much to Dina's pleasure, but Michael wasn't so happy. The daughter was the start of the marriage problems.

Dina was contentedly pregnant at age nineteen, going on twenty, when she lost the baby. The doctors were baffled; Dina was a perfectly healthy young woman, with no history of miscarriages in her family. Michael was beyond disappointed. For weeks he would be holed up in his bedroom. He wouldn't speak to anyone, neither family nor friends. Dina could hear people whispering in the streets: "Poor man, first his baby sister abducted by aliens, then a miscarriage in the family. Even after his first wife couldn't conceive!" Dina wanted vanish everytime she heard someone whispering about Bella, or her, or anything that had to do with Michael and his problems.

And then, about a year ago, Michael died. No one knew how. Dina was a murder suspect, but her alibi was airtight. Dina knew she hadn't killed Michael; she had been spending the weekend at Nina's house, mourning the mental loss of her husband and the physical loss of her unborn daughter. Nina had had security tapes around her house, and the police were able to see Dina making omelets at Michael's approximate time of death.

After Michael's death, Dina moved herself, her sister, and her late husband's ashes to Pleasantview, where they had been living ever since. Dina had met Mortimer, and things had moved on from there, into a steady, working relationship.

_Of course, with some things on the side_, Dina thought to herself as she cleaned up the remnants of Nina's dinner from last night. Dina had been spending the night with Don at his condo. Of course, when both Dina and Nina had moved to Pleasantview, Don had already been involved with Cassandra for nearly a year, but that didn't stop him from pursuing her. Since then, both Don and Dina had been keeping their relationship a secret from their respective partners.

Dina's thoughts were interrupted by her sister tramping heavily down the stairs. Dina immediately regretted mentally calling her sister a "fat cow." Nina looked terrible. Her usually tan face was blotchy, her red hair looked tangled, and her eyes were bloodshot.

"You okay?" Dina asked hesitantly as Nina went towards the cupboard under the sink where the medicines were usually kept. Nina grunted in reply.

"Did you eat something nasty last night?" Another grunt. Dina could tell she was getting nowhere. "Well, I hope you're feeling better soon. Remember, the wedding is next week."

"I know," Nina mumbled, closing the cupboard door, obviously not finding what she desired. She seemed as thrilled about the wedding as Dina was.

Nina stomped back upstairs, muttering something about "lying down," while Dina rummaged through the cupboards to find something to eat.

"Dina?" came a small voice from the top of the stairs. Dina walked over to see her sister sitting on the top step, head in her hands. "I'm pregnant."

Daniel Pleasant glared at his wife as she bustled around the kitchen, looking for ingredients for Baked Alaska.

"I don't see why we need to bring a dish to pass," he grumbled, poking at his macaroni and cheese.

"_Because_," Mary-Sue huffed for what seemed to be the forty-third time that evening. "Mortimer doesn't want to spend too much money on an expensive caterer, what with all the previous costs of booking the church and getting the décor for the reception." She slammed a tub of vanilla ice cream onto the counter top, a little too loud for Daniel's taste. He gave Mary-Sue another snarky look when her back was turned.

"It gives the reception a little 'homely' feel, doesn't it?" Mary-Sue said optimistically as she reached into the freezer for another tub of ice cream.

"Not really," Daniel grumbled through a mouthful of macaroni. "I don't see why you have to make Baked Alaska."

Mary-Sue slammed another tub of vanilla ice cream onto the counter and looked toward her husband with malice. "_You _were the one who said we were going to make a dessert. Mortimer told us to make Baked Alaska, since it's an old family favorite and it would make Cassandra happy. And you're not helping me find any of the ingredients we bought this—oh for goodness sakes!"

Mary-Sue stared down at the container of ice cream she had just opened. Half of it was missing. "Did you eat all of this?" she said angrily, shoving the half-full container towards Daniel's face. He shook his head, not bothering to look at the so called "catastrophe" his wife held before him.

"I specifically told everyone in this house not to eat any of the ice cream in the freezer!" Mary-Sue fumed, closing the lid on the ice cream container and pushing it back into the freezer.

"What's the big deal?" Daniel said, scraping the last of his macaroni and cheese off his plate.

"What's the big deal?" Mary-Sue said quietly, turning toward Daniel and narrowing her almond shaped eyes. "_What's the big deal_?"

Just as she was about to blow her top, the front door opened, and Lilith and Angela walked in from the cold. A light dusting of snow was on their shoulders and hat-shod heads, and sprinkles of it were quickly melting in their identical red hair. The two quickly greeted their parents, then tried to head of the stairs.

"Wait!" Mary-Sue yelled to them. "Stop right there!"

Daniel groaned as he pushed his now empty plate away from them.

"Would either of you two mind explaining this?" Mary-Sue held out the half-empty ice cream container.

"It's a tub of vanilla ice cream, Mom, don't have a cow," Lilith said, slightly annoyed. Angela glared at her twin sister.

"You girls both know that this and the other tub of vanilla ice cream in the freezer was supposed to be for the Baked Alaska we're bringing to Cassandra's wedding reception!" Mary-Sue cawed, her face flushed. "Did either of you eat it?"

"No way, Mom," Angela answered quickly, while Lilith tried to hide behind her twin sister.

"Lilih?" Mary-Sue growled.

"I'm sorry, Mom, I forgot," Lilith stammered.

"Because of your carelessness, I have to go and buy another quart of ice cream." Mary-Sue fumed.

"Really, Mom, I'm really sorry." Lilith repeated.

"For God's sake, Mary-Sue," Daniel roared, pushing himself up from the table. "It doesn't matter." He took his wallet out of his back pocket and slammed a ten dollar note on the table. "Here, here's some money for your lost ice cream. I'm going to the store to buy another." He stormed out into the cold, hoping this wedding would get over quickly.

The church looked beautiful on November 6th, the day of Cassandra's wedding to Don. Streams of white tulle were hanging from the wide windows of the church, while decorative blue bows graced the ends of all the pews. The organ was even decked out; flowers and lace adorned the pipes and the seat was edged with ribbons. The altar was set, the large Bible open to a random chapter (today it was Numbers 6:11), for appearance's sake.

Inside the dressing room, Cassandra was a nervous wreck. A long strand of hair kept coming out of her hairdo, framing her angular face in such a way that it was becoming a distraction. No amount of bobby pins would keep it secure under the long veil she wore. Her feet, for some reason, had grown at least half a size bigger since Cassandra had purchased her shoes, and now her white pumps were too tight. The dress was either getting stuck on something, or wrinkled, so Cassandra had managed to push all the furniture away from herself towards the walls, and she stood, a trembling waif, in the middle of the room, staring at her reflection in the three-way mirror that seemed to reflect the light in the most unattractive ways.

Mortimer entered the room a few minutes later to walk his daughter down the aisle to see Cassandra slouching on the floor in a crumbled heap.

"Darling, what's the matter?" He asked, trying to get her up off the floor.

"Oh daddy," Cassandra moaned. "I look a fright." The annoying piece of hair escaped the clutches of its pins and fell down around her face again. Cassandra was too stressed to try and put it back.

"Cassie," Mortimer said gently, tilting her chin up so he could see her trembling face. "You look beautiful. If only your mother were here to see you. She would be so proud."

Cassandra managed a weak smile. "Really, daddy?"

Mortimer smiled back. The few words he had spoken gave Cassandra a burst of confidence, and she managed to get back onto her feet, suffocating in those not-so-tight-anymore pumps. He placed her shaking arm on top of his, and gave her an affectionate peck on the cheek. "I have looked forward to this day since the moment you were born." He said. Cassandra smiled at her father, and embraced him.

"I love you, father." She murmured.

"I love you too, sweetheart." Mortimer replied, pulling back. "Now, let's get married."

The organist began playing the first few chords of "Here Comes the Bride" as Don stood, equally as nervous as Cassandra, on the altar next to his groomsmen. He stared around the church at the people who had come to see him wed Cassandra. Daniel and Mary-Sue Pleasant were seated in the middle pews, Daniel a good distance away from his wife, while the twins ceased pouring over one of their cell phones (Don could never tell which was which, then again, did he really care?) to turn towards the back of the church to catch a glimpse of the bride. One of the twins gave a little flirtatious wave to Dirk Dreamer, son of Darren Dreamer, who was now staring at Don a little malevolently. Don was not fazed. Little Alexander Goth, Mortimer's soon to be brother-in-law, was standing as the ring bearer, clutching the pillow as his life depended on it.

The flower girl, Lucy Burb, a bright young child who was always smiling, entered first. Don remembered Cassandra mentioning to him about how she used to baby-sit Lucy as an infant during the summers between her years at college, to earn money. Her parents, Jennifer and John Broke, looked on smiling, proud of their little girl.

But Don didn't care about the plebeians who decided to attend the wedding. His eyes roamed around for the Caliente twins. They were seated near the front, because of their importants. Dina was about to get engaged to Mortimer, so her place as soon-to-be mother of the bride was already admired and respected by the citizens of Pleasantview. She was looking stunning in a beautiful white dress, which set off her naturally tanned skin. Her blonde hair was done up in a regal updo, which highlighted her sharp, modelesque cheekbones and high forehead. Her twin sister, Nina, was beside her, her fiery red hair smooth and shiny, but the purple dress she chose for the occasion didn't seem to make her look as good as her sister. Don regretted having that one night stand with Nina only a few short weeks before. He also noticed a change in Nina; she looked pale, and a little sick. _Maybe she's coming down with something_. Don thought. He had no STDs, he got himself checked regularly at the local KwickHealth center in town. _I might be a player_, Don mused to himself, _but at least I have standards._

A loud sigh echoed from the audience as Cassandra entered the nave with her father. She looked lovely, but not as lovely as Dina. Don's eyes passed to Dina as Cassandra walked up the aisle, trodding on the delicate rose petals Lucy had tossed there only a minute before. Dina had a strange expression on her face; Don thought she looked sort of smug. _Why?_ He thought. If anything, she would be seething that Cassandra, a woman with a fortune rivaling Bill Gates, would be marrying Dina's love. _Don't worry, Dina, it will all pay off in time_, Don thought as Cassandra approached the altar.

But suddenly, as the priest began the ceremony, Don had one of those flashes, the kind that people who were about to die received. Except Don wasn't looking at his past; he was seeing his future.

As the priest intoned the vows, Don saw Cassandra in bed on their wedding night. How many times had she "done it" with a guy? Not as many as Don. She didn't have a voluptuous body; Cassandra was actually kind of a twig.

Don saw Cassandra in the throes of pregnancy. He saw her getting fat, eating all of the food he had stocked for himself in the fridge, blaming it on "cravings." He saw her face twisted in pain during child birth, and he would have to be there to watch it. Mortimer would hate him. He saw mini-Dons and mini-Cassandras running around his treasured mansion, kicking at priceless sculptures and drawing on the wood-paneled walls.

He saw Cassandra getting old and wrinkled. He saw her saying goodbye to all the children he fathered as they went off to college. He saw himself and her sitting on their expensive couch as grandchildren ran around the house, his kids not doing anything about it, saying they wanted their kids to grow up to be "free spirits." He saw her wrinkled body, flabby from giving birth to children, moving underneath him in bed as he did what old people called "sex."

But worst of all, he saw Dina. Dina hanging on to Mortimer. Dina never aging. Dina's body never getting ruined because of the children (the heirs!) she would bear to Mortimer. Dina never getting wrinkled because she, as a big movie star, could afford all the Botox she ever wanted. Dina constantly hitting on him, but Don never making a move, because he was married to the mad scientist who created potions in the Goth basement.

So when the priest asked Don, "Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" Don went with his instinct, instead of what everyone wanted him to do, and said, "No."

_To be continued…_

_Hope you guys like it! Please review and subscribe and stuff! I'll hopefully come out with the next chapter soon, so hang in there!_


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